The Other Temperance Brennan
by The Last Letter
Summary: Booth has a very interesting Halloween costume.


Booth tugged uncomfortably at his jeans, which were _way_ too tight. Extremely tight; so tight he almost wanted to back out on his original costume plan, throw on a vampire cape and dig out some old fangs. He didn't, though. He tugged on the jeans, trying to make them a little less snug. The small thought that he could have worn a skirt instead danced across his mind. Oh well, too late now.

Booth turned back to the bed, where the rest of his costume lay. So far, he was shirtless in the too tight jeans, and he seriously needed to get a move on. He picked up the bra (that Angela had been kind enough to get for him) between his thumb and forefinger. Booth knew how to take bras off, not put them on again. Never the less, he fumbled with the thing, until he managed to get it strapped it on properly. This thing was also restricting his breathing. _The price I pay for Halloween, _he thought. He picked up the socks (Angela told him these would be more lifelike) and stuffed the bra.

Next he picked up the shirt, a big button up black blouse. He put it on. It was a tight fit around his wide, rounded shoulders. He flexed and rolled his shoulders until the shirt settled on a more comfortable position. Booth then did up the shirt, leaving the top couple of buttons open. He played with the collar a little bit, before telling himself to stop being such a girl. Next, he put on the earrings, small, _fake_, silver hoops. Then the necklace. It was a wide, loopy thing. He wrapped it around his neck, his large fingers fumbling with the clasp. It finally caught, and he was left with a tangle of black strings and beads.

He'll be the first to admit, he had as slight panic attack, grabbing at his neck, thinking, _oh my God! Please don't let this be on wrong! _Thankfully, after a few moments of anxiety filled patting, the necklace was smooth, draping elegantly over his collarbone in it's complicated threaded pattern. Booth let out a breath of relief. The necklace was actually Brennan's, 'Angela' had 'borrowed it' for a 'party'.

But, Booth was onto, what he thought, was the hardest part of his costume: make-up. Angela had given him a crash course in eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, the whole bit, but it had been a week ago. He had tried not to zone out, but hadn't been very successful. He picked up the flesh coloured tube. He was quite sure that Angela said that this was to 'cover the flaws and make your skin look prettier'. He spread the paste over his face. Angela had said that this would make his skin seem healthy, glowing, more natural. He thought he looked pasty and sick. Oh well.

Next he picked up the blush. Angela had said that this was absolutely necessary, but only a little bit. She told him 'don't overdo it, Seeley Booth, because that will just end in disaster'. He trusted her judgment more than he trusted his own on this matter. He dipped the brush in the light pink powder and gently wiped it over his cheek. He did it once, twice, to each cheek, before putting it away.

Next came the eye shadow. 'Don't overdo it on this one either." Booth gasped, just as he was about to lower the wand thing to his eyelid. He'd forgotten to put his contacts in! He reached into his bag of Halloween tricks, before pulling out the coloured contacts. His deep chocolate eyes were transformed. There was a very blue colour to his eyes now. Finally, he put the eye shadow on. It was a lot more difficult than one might think. In trying to watch himself put the eye shadow on, he poked himself in the eye several times. Finally, he closed his eyes and smeared. When he opened his eyes to inspect, it wasn't half bad. It would have to work.

Next was the eyeliner. 'This,' Angela had said, holding up the pencil, 'is a tricky little bugger'. She'd then demonstrated how to pull on the eye and how to angle the pencil to get the ultimate results. Booth wasn't quite so elegant. He poked himself in the eye with this one too, before smearing the black all down his cheek. He wiped it off, only to find that the fleshy goop had come off with it! He quickly applied some more, before attempting again with the eyeliner. This attempted wasn't as bad. It was smudged, but not horribly. It was a passible job. He switched hands. The other eye was worse, but he put the eyeliner down, and grabbed at the mascara.

Surprise, surprise, he poked himself in the eye. He made his lashes longer, with a few black clumps on them. It felt odd. His lashes felt fake, plastic, goopy. Booth didn't know how girls put up with all of this. Every single morning. He put the mascara back. He was almost done; just the finishing touch remained. Softly, gently, with the utmost respect, Booth picked the wig up off of the Styrofoam head it had been resting on for the past week.

The dark hair, with the red highlights and slight curls bounced around as he picked it up. He slid it onto his head. He took a few moments to secure it, tightly to his head. He checked himself in the mirror, and grimaced. What he looked like felt short of what he envisioned, but, nevertheless, he was ready to go.

He went to put his wallet in his jeans pocket, and found that the jeans were too tight. Booth let out a long sigh of frustration, before shoving the wallet in the pocket of his leather jacket, and pulling on the leather jacket. Finally, he sat down in a chair, and grabbed his shoes. Little, high-heeled ankle boots. 'To complete the outfit', Angela said, with a wicked grin. 'Oh, and little tip, practice walking in them'. Booth tried to put his leg up on his opposite knee, but the jeans restricted that, so he bent double (in a position he couldn't breathe in), shoved his feet in the boots and zipped up the sides. He was ready to go. With a satisfied smirk on his face, Booth hauled himself to his feet.

He tottered a step to his right, ramming his hip in the counter trying to catch his balance. He stood up straight, waited until he stopped leaning, and then he took a hesitant step forward. He almost went backwards; his ankles felt like bendy straws, and don't even get him started on his toes. Booth put a hand against the wall, and walked himself out that way. _Jeez, _he thought, once he had tripped his way to his vehicle, _Angela was right. I should have practiced._

Driving with the heels on wasn't as bad, but it took Booth five long painful minutes to convince himself that his feet were indeed in the right place. Slowly, he made his way to the Jeffersonian, all the while praying that he didn't get pulled over, or passed by someone he knew. He knew what the guys in the office were saying about him and Brennan, and he would strange someone if he heard, "That Booth's so whipped by the lady scientist that he's turning into her!" followed by laughter.

Booth parked as close as possible to the door, and tripped his way inside. Those squints had already be here, or so help him god . . . No, they were there. Hodgins and Angela were flirting heavily by the stairs; Cam was just walking in herself, coffee in hand, and Clarke Edison was up on the forensic platform.

"Oh, wow, Booth!" Angela exclaimed, being the first to catch sight of him. "Sexy!"

Booth didn't bother with a reply, just went over to Brennan's empty, locked office. He began to fiddle around with the door, breaking in.

"Seeley, you have really outdone yourself this Halloween." Cam said, definite approval in her voice.

"Don't call me Seeley, Camille," he muttered, as the doorknob twisted and opened under his hand. Voila!

"Don't call me, Camille," Cam returned, as expected, smiling through the whole exchange.

"Excuse me," Clarke Edison interrupted as Booth walked into Brennan's office, "but can someone please explain to me why I was ordered into work two hours before I was supposed to be here?"

"Easy," Booth called back, "Brennan gets here in half an hour."

He stripped off his jacket, and hid it under the coach cushions, before lifting her lab coat off of its peg. That also went into the couch. Booth, his work done, left, locking the office.

"Here," Angela was holding out a blue lab coat, his size, but with a completely different named written on it.

"Thanks."

"Anytime," Angela grinned, winked, and added, "Booth, I told you that you should have practiced walking in those shoes."

Booth rolled his eyes, pulling on the lab coat, refraining from doing it up. He took the four plastic bags Angela was holding out. Honestly, this wouldn't have worked without her.

"Today," Booth announced, "I am Dr. Brennan - "

"Sorry dude," Hodgins interjected, "but Dr. B's a lot hotter than you are."

Angela chuckled. "I can't argue with you there."

"Just listen!" Booth clenched his fists in frustration. Brennan's schedule wasn't set in stone; he didn't want her to get here before this was ready. The Squints quieted. "Okay, I am Brennan for Halloween. You guys," he tossed a bag to each of them, "Are my 'bones'. Any questions?"

Hodgins, as expected, raised his hands, "do we get to make up a dance routine?" he teased.

He was ignored.

"Do I really have to do this?" Clarke was peering in his bag. "I am an intern. Not a plaything."

"Would you like to remain an intern?" Cam asked, sweetly.

Clarke nodded, "Yes, I would."

"Then I suggest you put on the costume."

Clarke's expression dropped as he hurried off to the bathroom. The other squints broke off in different directions. When they returned, they were all identical, tight black body suit, with glow in the dark bones on them, along with a face mask.

"Up on the forensic platform," Booth swiped his card and waved his arm up. He made sure to pin his card where Brennan always did. Everyone padded up obediently.

"Where to now?" Cam asked, putting on her face mask.

"Up on the shiny, silver tables," Booth tapped one.

"Sweet," Hodgins grinned, hopping up on one of the tables, lying flat.

Angela and Cam each climbed up onto a table, making themselves comfortable on the cold, hard surface.

"Do I really – " Clarke still hadn't put his face mask on, and he was staring at the table apprehensively.

Booth glanced out the doors, and saw Brennan's car. He jabbed the mask on Clarke's big head, and half pushed the man up on the table. "Stay," he hissed. He quickly cut out all the lights that weren't supposed to be on. The bones on the suits weren't glowing as much as he'd hoped, but not enough to attract attention.

Brennan, used to being the first one in, didn't even look up as she entered the door, making a beeline for the office. She opened the door. Booth's sniper eye carefully tracked her movements as she put her bag down, took off her coat, and reached for her lab coat. Reach again. Look up, look around. Leave the room. He could imagine her thoughts._ Where would I have left my lab coat? I always hang it up on the peg._

She turned on the lights over the forensic platform, everything lighting up. She swiped her card and looked up, stopping mid step. Her large blue eyes widened.

"Booth?" She gasped, looking closer, not really believing that the drag queen bending over one of the poor imitations of skeletons was her partner. There was no visible reaction. "Booth? _Hello_," Brennan tried again.

Nothing.

She walked right up to him, nudged his shoulder, and he looked up sharply. "Who are you?" He asked, in a high pitched.

"It's me, Booth. Brennan." She said, slowly. She didn't know what was going on, but she was quite sure that she didn't like it.

"No, I am Dr. Temperance Brennan." Booth turned, and pointed to the name carefully stitched on the lab coat.

"That is _not_ my lab coat."

"Because it's mine."

"What is all of this?" Brennan gestured to the other fake skeletons, who she assumed were her, er, 'esteemed' colleagues.

Booth grinned, wickedly. "This is Halloween."

"This is October thirtieth," she corrected.

"This is _my_ Halloween," Booth rephrased.

"I don't understand," Brennan was frowning, that crease between her eyes showing just how hard she was thinking.

"I'm you for Halloween."

Brennan studied him again, distaste forming a new expression, then, a little surprise. "That's my necklace."

"It's my necklace. I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan."

Brennan huffed. "Booth."

No reaction.

"Go get your own costume," Booth encouraged.

Brennan stood a second more, before walking off of the platform, getting her bag and leaving.

Cam sat up, watching her anthropologist leave the building. "Where's she going?"

Booth shrugged. "Beats me."

"She's coming back, though," Cam pressed.

"It's Brennan," Angela also sat up, tossing her legs over the side of the table, "she couldn't stay away from this place if she tried."

"Just, hold your positions until she returns." Booth decided.

Ten long minutes later, Booth was sitting down. His feet were aching. How could women do it, standing around in these things all day? Angela and Hodgins were now sharing a table, and Cam was standing over Clarke Edison, who was too scared of being fired to even breathe.

"She's back," Booth called, standing up, and almost falling back over again. He quickly regained his balance, Cam climbed back on a table.

Brennan entered, a short brown wig covering her long hair, her blue eyes were brown, she was wearing a suit, crazy tie and all. On her hip was a badge, on her other hip was a gun. She approached Booth, a slight smirk on her glossed lips.

"Is that thing real?" He couldn't help but ask, pointing to the gun. Knowing her, it was real. Knowing her, it was also illegal.

"Of course, I am, after all, an F.B.I Agent."

"Are you joking?" She wasn't joking. "Come on, Bones, hand it over." Costumes or not, he was still the real F.B.I Agent.

"I can't give a gun to a lowly forensic anthropologist who already shot someone," Brennan mocked.

"I'm an F.B.I Agent!" Booth exclaimed.

"No," she touched the name on the lab coat, right on the breast of the stuffed bra, "you are Dr. Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist. I am Special Agent Seeley Booth; therefore, I get the gun." She grinned, before putting on her man-voice, "So, Bones, got any cases for me today?"

**Okay, I don't know if I like how this turned out, it started out as a really different idea. I don't own **_**Bones**_**. Hope you like it enough to review!**

**~DI4MGZ~**


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